


New Names and Heartbeats

by slightly_ajar



Series: Stable AU [6]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hugging, Hurt Jack, Hurt/Comfort, Stable AU, dad!Jack, teen!Mac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 06:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20719454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_ajar/pseuds/slightly_ajar
Summary: Mac hadn’t been sure what to expect of their latest resident but he’d imagined that their new horse would either be young, scrawny and skittish with long legs it hadn’t grown into yet or old and careworn, with a stooped back and a weary gait. But as Mac watched Jack lead the horse from his trailer into his stall he found himself taking a step backwards.Jack brings a rescued horse into the stable unaware of the worry and pain that will follow for him and Mac.set in dickgrysvn'sStablehands + Stable Homes AUand alongside violetvaria’sStable AU





	1. ...and high water

The horse’s name was Hades. Mac thought that should have been a sign. 

Jack changed it’s name to Hal. “He’s never responded to Hades and it’s a hell of a name to be branded with.” He’d winked at Mac, delighted with his pun. “He deserves a fresh start. New name, new beginning. He’s been staying with my buddy’s cousin’s uncle’s neighbour,” Mac had blinked, bewildered by the thread of who knew who and how, “but she can only keep him for a short time so I told her I’d take him. We have the space and I think he could be happy with us.” 

Jack visited the horse regularly until they were able to arrange to bring him to his new home and he returned from each visit pleased with the progress he was making. 

“He’s getting there, ” Jack had claimed one evening as he’d hung his keys on the hook by the front door. “He’s starting to trust me.” 

Later that evening Mac had searched the Internet for footage of people working as horse whispers. In the videos he found he saw how they carefully watched the animals they were with, reacting to the tiny cues - a flick of their ears or turn of their head - the horses gave them. 

“Mac, don’t forget that if you see any videos with a horse called Mr Ed in them, they’re not real, that horse can’t really talk, ” Jack had said, peeking over Mac’s shoulder at what he was watching. 

“Thanks I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Mac had replied, “and I won’t forget that the Lone Ranger’s horse didn’t really ‘hi ho and away’ either.” 

“Hold on there, pal!” Jack reared back, hands thrown up to fend off Mac’s words, “as a child I believed that the Lone Ranger was a real guy and I haven’t one hundred percent let go of that notion.” 

“I’ll tell you what,” Mac’s imagination was filled with visions of Jack as a child running around his back yard pretending to save the day as a real life masked hero, “if I find archive footage of Silver I’ll let you know.” 

“That horse really did do those things,” Jack nudged Mac’s shoulder, “there was a real horse running and rearing and chasing out of control wagons with damsels in distress inside. Just because something is a legend that doesn’t mean it’s not true.” 

Mac turned to face Jack, grinning playfully, “Has anyone ever talked to you about the Loch Ness Monster?” 

“Tttssssh!” Jack shushed him with an authoritative forefinger held aloft. “Having no evidence of there being a monster is not the same as there being proof that there actually is no monster. You can’t prove a negative, it’s the same thing.” 

“Well,” Mac squinted as he tried to unpick what Jack had just said, “I’m not entirely sure that it is.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather live in a world where there’s a possibility of a cool, dinosaur-like beastie living in the depths of a Scottish lake than in a boring, predictable one where that couldn’t happen?” 

“Yeah,” Mac had to concede, “I suppose everyone would.” 

“There you go then.” Jack nodded smugly and left Mac to his search. 

During footage of a man and an uneasy colt Mac had become aware with a slow building realisation that Jack could do with him what the person in the video was doing with his horse. Jack knew when to give Mac space and when to connect with him by touch, what questions to ask when and when be silent. Dr Amanda could do it too. Mac trusted her enough to talk to her about some of the things he struggled to discuss with Jack. It would be good to learn some of those skills, Mac had thought as Jack rested against Mac's chair and pulled off his boots, he’d like to know how to be still, quiet and watchful rather than thinking, thinking and overthinking all the time. 

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Mac said suddenly, awkwardly, “for having the heart and the skills to be able to take care of that horse.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Jack froze briefly, one foot still hovering off the ground and a boot clutched in his right hand, he’d looked surprised but pleased with Mac’s outburst. 

“I don’t say stuff like that enough,” fidgeting, Mac had shoved his hands deep into his pockets, head down to cover his face with his hair. “I should say that kind of thing more because it’s true.” 

“I’m proud of you too.” Jack took Mac in his arms. “I’m proud of you right now for saying something you thought was important even though you were embarrassed to do it.” He’d ruffled Mac’s hair and chuckled. 

  


When the day of the new horse’s arrival at the stable came Mac helped Jack get the empty stall ready. 

“He’ll love it!” They’d made the stall comfortable with clean straw and fresh food and Jack stood in the centre of the space circling slowly and grinning widely. “He’s going to do so well. Just watch, he’s going to get a little better every single day here with us.” 

Mac hadn’t been sure what to expect of their latest resident but he’d imagined that their new horse would either be young, scrawny and skittish with long legs it hadn’t grown into yet or old and careworn with a stooped back and a weary gait. But as Mac watched Jack lead the horse from his trailer and into his stall he found himself taking a step backwards. 

Hades…Hal was a large adult male with a deep chest and strong, powerful flanks. He was grey with a dark undercoat that gave him a bluish cast, tall with a black mane and tail and big, intelligent eyes. When he was fit and strong he would be majestic - his long neck holding his proud head up high - and Mac could tell that he would move beautifully, but the animal that Jack was leading into the empty stall was thin and unkempt. His eyes were wide and rolling and he tossed his head erratically, sweat slicked skin shivering as Jack crooned softly to him. 

“Is he going to be safe?” Mac had asked. 

As Jack bolted Hal’s stable door shut a furious bray echoed around the wooden space. Mac’s breath caught at the sound. 

“He’ll be fine.” Jack had answered, misunderstanding him, “he’s just a little unsettled by the journey.” 

Mac refrained from commenting. 

  


“That’s it, there you go. Good! Easy now, good boy.” 

Mac could hear Jack working with Hal as he distributed fresh food and water to the other horses. Jack worked with Hal every day, sometimes standing by the door of his stall talking to him in a soft voice, sometimes watching him from a seat perched on the fence as Hal ran around in the exercise area. Mac always made sure he was somewhere else when Hal was around. He didn’t like the angry snorts and bangs that came from Hal’s stall when he lashed out with his hooved feet. Mac didn’t like the wild unpredictable look in Hal’s eyes and the way they flickered around almost constantly, or how the muscles under his skin quivered with tension. Hal always seemed troubled, moments away from...something. Mac never knew what the horse was one heartbeat away from but the potential of a sudden burst of reaction frightened him. 

Guilt sat in a hard ball in his chest like a pebble in his shoe whenever he avoided Hal, hard and painful and impossible to ignore. Mac hated that guilt and the fact that whenever he walked past Hal’s stall he felt fear clenching in his gut like a small child who can’t sleep because his closet door is open. The stable was somewhere he’d always felt safe but with Hal there it was like a corner of it that had been corrupted. Having his refuge tarnished made Mac bristle with irritation, followed quickly by contrition because Jack was doing a good thing by giving Hal a home and it wasn’t Hal’s fault that he scared Mac. 

“Hello, girl.” Mac scratched Pepper’s neck when he reached her stall, leaning his weight against her as she butted him with her head searching for snacks. “At least you never change. Do you miss how things used to be too?” 

A secret part of Mac that he was struggling to keep squashed down wished Jack had never offered Hal a home. But Jack’s heart was full of generosity and kindness, it was who he was. If he were different kind of person, the kind who wouldn’t have taken Hal in, then maybe he would never have opened his home to Mac and made them a family. Mac didn’t like to think about what his life would have been like if that hadn’t happened. He was confused, tense and ashamed and dreaded Jack noticing and asking him what was wrong because he had no idea how to answer without sounding self-centred or stupid. 

Pepper didn’t like their new arrival either. She snorted with distain and jealousy whenever Jack worked with Hal, grumbling and whinnying until Mac stood at her head, stroked her between her ears and snuck her treats. 

She whickered as Mac petted her. “I know girl.” He held an apple out in his palm and Pepper took it from him gently. “Jack says that Hal getting better.” He leaned closer to speak softly into his favourite horse’s ear, hearing the apple crunch between her teeth “You’ll get used to him, we both will. It will be okay.” Pepper let out a sound that could only be described as a snort. “Yeah, I know, I didn’t sound very convincing did I?” 

“You know, buddy,” Jack called as he left Hal’s stall and walked towards Mac and Pepper looking pleased. He smelled of straw, horses and the sharp tang of his aftershave, scents that reminded Mac of home and shelter, and he felt a little of his bad mood melt away. Jack tapped Mac’s arm with the back of a hand, “if you wanted you and me could work with Hal together.” A smile spread slowly over his face as he warmed to the idea, “You could learn a bit of horse whispering, you’ll be a natural, look how much his grumpy old mare likes you.” He patted Pepper’s neck. “What do you think?” 

“Umm,” working with Hal, being near him, close to that hostile bulk of angry muscle and unpredictability - Mac’s stomach clenched at the offer. 

Jack saw the reluctance on Mac’s face. “You don’t want to? I’ve never known you turn down the chance to learn something. What’s going on?” 

“I think -” saying ‘I’m frightened’ felt ridiculous. Mac understood about Hal, he really did, but he still made Mac’s skin crawl. Being scared of Hal was stupid because he was a horse, he wasn’t, he wasn’t… “Maybe I will when he’s more comfortable, he’s still getting to know you. I wouldn’t want to unsettle him, I might get something wrong and scare him.” 

“It’s not an exact science, bud. You have to watch carefully and react to what you’re seeing. Unless you jump up and down and yell you won’t really get it too wrong, you already know a lot of what to do.” 

“It’s just,” Mac fought against his instinct to hide the truth of what he was feeling. He and Jack had promised that they would be honest with each other and Jack would understand what he felt, or would try to. Mac ducked his head to hide the embarrassed flush on his cheeks and steeled himself, “He’s big and he’s unpredictable,” he petted Pepper’s nose as a distraction, “he makes me nervous.” 

“Okay.” Jack said slowly, his head tipped to one side as he studied Mac. 

Jack would clearly love for them to work together with Hal but Mac couldn’t. He just _couldn’t_. He squirmed under Jack’s scrutiny. “He’s flighty and I wouldn’t know what to do,” Mac continued. “I wouldn’t want to do anything wrong and frighten him, it would be dangerous. You are safe when you’re with him aren’t you?” Mac looked away from Pepper to meet Jack’s eye, trying to make him see the depths of his concern. “You don’t take any risks?” 

“I don’t take any risks, you know me,” Jack tapped the centre of his puffed out chest, “Careful is my middle name, I’m Mr Careful, don’t you worry.” 

But Mac did worry. 

He was in the tack room a few days later, scowling at the saddle he had just heaved back into it’s storage space. He was sure that there had to be a better way of keeping the saddles, a way that used the space more effectively. Maybe if he built some shelves or changed where the bridles were hung that would make a difference, if they moved them over to the corner near the door that would free up the left hand side of the windowless wall and…

He wasn’t avoiding the exercise area because Jack was there with Hal. 

He really wasn’t. 

Much. 

When Mac was little he’d been too scared to scale to the highest point of the climbing frame in the playground his mom used to take him to. The top had seemed so far away from the ground, way out of reach for a little boy like him. The gap between the summit of the metal bars and the floor below seemed like a yawning, unforgiving space that would swallow him whole if he fell. Being scared didn’t sit comfortably with Mac so each time he and his mom went to the park he would try to work his way up a little higher up the climbing frame, touching the next bar up from the last one he’d stood on, pulling himself up to sit on it, then slowly, slowly standing on the bar and waving to his mom from the loftiest height he’d ever conquered. He never reached the peak. His mom grew too sick to take him to the playground and after her death James never seemed to have time for outings like that,_ ‘I’m working, Angus’, ‘I’m busy, Angus’, “For God’s sake, why can’t you amuse yourself!?_’ Mac still didn’t like being frightened or feeling defeated but his usual resolve to chip away at the thing confounding him until he understood and could master it stalled when it came to Hal. He didn’t know how to manage the nervousness rolling in his stomach whenever was near him or saw him and Jack together. 

He let out an angry snort of breath and pushed his fingers into his hair, telling himself to _get a grip_ when he heard an angry equine scream, a shout of alarm from Jack and a loud crash. 

Instinct had Mac running before he was aware of making the decision to move. He bolted from the tack room towards to exercise area to find Jack pulling himself up off the floor, dusting off the seat of his trousers. 

“Jack!” Mac called breathlessly, his heart pounding. “Are you okay?” 

Jack whistled. “That was close!” He wiped away the sweat on his top lip gave a bark of thrilled laughter. “That horse has got spirit, I like it!” 

“Are you hurt?” Mac reached for Jack with shaking hands, “What happened?” 

“Hal here just wanted to show me that he has a few tricks up his sleeve. I had to jump over the fence out of the way. It’s fine.” 

It felt to Mac like something dense and heavy had dropped into his stomach, he stumbled backwards away from Jack. “No it’s not!” he found himself shouting. 

The dread Mac had felt at the sound of Jack’s cry, that had frozen his blood in his veins, that had apparently been unnecessary since Jack was _laughing,_ twisted, boiled and churned inside him and with no other way to release the heat it manifested as anger. “It’s not funny and it’s not okay and it’s not fine! “ Mac yelled. “He could have hurt you! Horse’s kicks can break bones and if he’d have got you in the head he could have...” 

Jack’s amusement softened into concern. “It’s okay buddy. I know what I’m doing. Hey,” he reached out to stroke Mac’s arm, “this is just part of the process of working with animals like Hal.” 

“Stop saying that it’s okay!” Mac jerked away from Jack’s touch. “It’s not! It’s dangerous and it’s stupid!” Rage, unreasonable but undeniable, coursed through Mac making him reckless and harsh. “If you like risking your safety with abused animals maybe we can get you something else to work with when you’re done with Hal. Maybe we can find a half starved wolf or a vicious tiger for you to tame - you could add them to your collection of broken, screwed up things. You’ve already got me and Hal, I’m sure we could find room for something else.” 

He stalked away, fists clenched and angry tears burning his eyes. 

“Mac?” Jack called after him. Mac could hear the concern and hurt in his voice. “Son?” 

Mac ignored him and slammed his way into the tack room, kicking a box across the room when he was alone inside then leaning against the wall and pressing his forehead against one of the cool wooden panels until his shaking breaths slowed. 

Later, as they drove home passing fields and trees and Sara’s diner, Mac offered stumbling apology. 

“Sorry. I thought you’d been hurt. It scared me. Sorry.” 

“When I was seven I almost ran straight into the path of a car, " Jack said in response. Mac settled into his seat, knowing he was about to experience one of Jack’s long and rambling stories, one that would end at a valid point – eventually - if he was patient and paid attention. “I was heading to the park across the road and was so intent on getting to the playground I didn’t check the traffic. That playground had an awesome slide, it was tall and shiny and you could build up so much speed going down it that you felt like you were moving at a hundred miles an hour. All the kids used to call it The Rocket. Anyway, I didn’t look where I was going and just rushed out into the road. My mom saw what was happening and grabbed my arm before I got in front of the car and, man, she yelled at me. My momma can make some noise when she wants to, I swear people in the next state probably heard hollering. I’d scared her and her fear made her angry.” 

“Yeah, that.” Mac nodded, looking down to where his fingers were picking at a button on his shirt, unable to meet Jack’s eye. “So, sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” 

“Didn’t you?” 

With his head down Mac couldn’t see Jack turn to face him with a perceptive eyebrow raised but he knew he had. He shrugged, an awkward jerking movement that Mac knew screamed ‘sullen teenage boy’, but since he kind of was a sullen teenage boy nothing could be done about it. 

“You described yourself as a ‘broken and screwed up thing’, that’s a direct quote.” 

Mac sunk lower in his seat, angling himself to face his window. He watched objects in the rear view mirror that appeared closer that they were retreat, fervently wishing he hadn’t said that. He didn’t know why he’d done it. The intensity of his fear and rage had drawn all his other feelings to the surface like the moon pulling ocean waves away from the shore, and when he’d started to yell in fury they’d all flooded out. “I was angry.” 

“I got that, the shouting gave it away.” Mac knew that one perceptively raised eyebrow had been joined by another to frame an enquiring and concerned expression. “It doesn’t mean that you don’t believe what you said.” 

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Mac replied with a rambling non sequitur of his own. “When your friend brought Hal to the stable she said that he’d been abused. She said that’s why Hal is the way he is. I hate that word. Abused. It makes things sound like they’re damaged. Like something that’s been broken and no one will want it anymore, like it’s ruined.” 

“No one thinks that, Mac.” Dismay gave Jack’s tone a higher pitch than his usual calm drawl. “You know I don’t think that’s true.” 

“And Hal - how he is - he makes me nervous,” the thread of the button Mac was worrying at started to loosen, uncoiling enough for him to wrap the red cotton around his little finger. “I worry about the way he is, that he isn’t safe to be around and he could hurt someone. I don’t like that you go near him and he could hurt you.” 

Mac wasn’t sure how much of that made any sense but he figured that Jack would understand enough to find the truth in his rambling. 

Jack sighed and took a hand away the steering wheel to stroke through the hair at the back of Mac’s head. 

“Hal isn’t broken or ruined. He’s struggling right now because of some of the things that have happened to him but inside he’s okay, he just needs to feel safe and he won’t be so on edge all the time. He isn’t broken, neither is anyone else like him.” Jack tightened his hold on the back of Mac’s neck slightly, his thumb tracing over the tense muscles it rested on. “I’ll be careful when I’m with him, I promise.” 

It was easy to believe Jack then, when they were in the truck together with Jack sat beside him as solid and dependable as a mountain range and as warm and comforting as a hearth fire.

  


_Hal isn’t damaged or ruined. _

Mac had been repeating that to himself since his conversation in the truck with Jack. 

_Hal isn’t broken. He isn’t bad. He just needs to feel safe. _

If anyone could make Hal feel safe Jack could, Mac knew. With Jack was the safest place in the world to be. 

And Jack promised he’d be careful. He always kept his promises so everything would be fine. 

It would. 

Wouldn’t it? 

Mac had volunteered to muck out Hal’s empty stall while Jack worked with him in the stable’s exercise area. It felt like he was helping Hal in a roundabout way that he knew would please Jack. 

“That’s it. And there you go! Nice.” 

Jack’s voice carried to Mac as he shovelled the hay from the floor of the stall into the waiting wheelbarrow. He sounded pleased with Hal, enthusiastic and excited. 

“Now, we’ve kind of tried this before and I’m feeling optimistic this afternoon so let’s have another go. I’m just going to lean my weight on you. Good boy!” 

The last of the soiled hay picked up, Mac leaned his pitchfork against the wall of the stable and surveyed the overflowing wheelbarrow with dismay. He loved being with the horses at the stable but sometimes he really wished there could be less manure to deal with. 

“Okay, pal, let’s try this.” 

Mac picked up the handles of barrow and pushed it out of the door of Hal’s stable. He glanced up and saw Jack sat on Hal’s back, no saddle between them, trotting in a large circle. Jack was beaming, elated, and leaned forward to pat Hal’s neck when Hal flinched. He tossed his head and bucked. 

“Easy, easy boy.” Jack spoke gently but Mac could see his muscles tense as he tried to keep his seat. 

Mac opened his mouth to cry out a warning but no sound came from his throat. Hal squealed, a frightened, frightening sound and reared up violently, too fast and fierce for Jack to counter and he fell, thrown backwards with a cry of alarm. 

“Jack!” 

Mac could hear his blood pounding in his ears and felt each foot fall reverberate through his body as he ran. It was like he was seeing everything in slow motion, Hal’s sudden movement, Jack’s grip failing, Jack falling, hanging defenceless in the empty air, then the sickening impact of his body hitting the floor. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no!” Mac chanted, a denial and a plea. 

Hal paced restlessly at the other end of the exercise area as Mac vaunted over the fence separating him from Jack and dropped to his knees at Jack’s side. 

“Jack! Can you hear me?” Mac shook Jack as hard as he dared. “Open your eyes. Just look at me. Please!” 

Jack was prone on the dusty floor, eyes closed, still and heavy. His head was turned towards Mac and one arm was throw up in front of his face with the other curled awkwardly out beside him. 

“Jack! Just…please, okay, look at me, please?” 

Sickened and shaking with panic Mac tried to remember what he’d learned in First Aid class. There had been something about ABCs. A had stood for…

Mac tried to focus…

A was for…

Jack wasn’t moving, why wasn’t he moving…?

A was for…

Jack must be hurt, really hurt, if he wasn’t he would have reacted to how scared Mac was and tried to reassure him…

A was for…

Blood, red and real and horribly there pooled beneath Jack’s head. A sob tore out of Mac, painful and nauseating that bowed him forward with it’s force…

A was for Airway Mac managed to remember when he righted himself, B was for Breathing and C was for Circulation! 

He pushed the hay and dirt in front of Jack’s face away and leaned forward to put his ear next to Jack’s nose and mouth. He was scared that he wouldn’t hear Jack’s breaths over his own frightened gasps so he laid a hand inside Jack’s shirt to feel for the rise and fall of his chest and the beating of his heart. 

They were there. The evidence of Jack’s life pulsed under his fingers and Mac sagged with relief as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His hands trembled so much it took three attempts to dial 911, Mac had to grit his teeth and focus hard on pressing the buttons before he connected to the emergency operator. 

“911 what is your emergency?” 

“There’s been an accident at Dalton’s Stable.” Mac replied, trying to keep his voice steady and clear. “We need an ambulance, quickly, please, he’s hurt.” 

“We’ll get help to you as soon as we confirm your address, who’s been hurt?” 

“My dad.” 


	2. Halving a problem

The nurses were kind to him. They let him stay beside Jack’s bed, smiling at him with warmth and understating in their eyes, and didn’t ask him if he was okay, a question he wouldn’t have been able to answer. Mac curled up as much as he could in his chair, his knees bent up in front of him, watching Jack sleep. 

He felt like his heart and mind had short circuited, shut down from too much input. Hearing Jack’s cry of distress, seeing him fall, not being able to wake him, then watching the paramedics load him into the back of the ambulance had been overwhelming. Mac felt untethered, like if he did anything other than sit by Jack’s side with his hand resting in Jack’s he would float away and be lost. 

“Do you need anything, sweetheart?” a nurse asked him, the one who kept calling him things like sweetheart, honey and sugar, which he would have expected to find patronising but was actually comforting. 

Mac shook his head. 

“You sure? I can get you a soda or a snack if you want one.” 

Mac silently shook his head again. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast but he couldn’t face the thought of food. 

Jack would want Mac to eat, he still worried about him being too skinny. “I’ll have to fetch you down from a tree if we get a strong breeze,” he would say. And he’d smile and look fond and proud and Mac would feel cared for and like he mattered to someone. Mac had never prayed, he wasn’t sure where his beliefs lay in amongst the contradictions and complexities that existed around the faith of religion and the rationality of science, but he believed in Jack. In Jack’s unending love and concern for him. Maybe if I don’t get any food from the nurses, Mac thought, Jack will have to wake up and nag me into getting some. Maybe he’ll open his eyes and tell me that I ought to bring us both some dinner, maybe-

Jack’s eyes flickered and the fingers of the hand Mac was holding hands twitched. 

“Jack?” Mac leaned forward, holding his breath. 

Jack’s eyes fluttered open. His brow furrowed in confusion as he looked around the room. 

Mac stood, bending over Jack to be in his field of vision. The hand that wasn’t clutching Jack’s fingers gripping his hospital gown. “Jack!” He choked out. His surge of relief felt larger than he was, it engulfed him, leaving him weak and exhausted in it’s wake. If he hadn’t been leaning against Jack’s bed Mac he felt sure his knees would buckle. His tears left small, dark patches on the blue fabric of Jack’s hospital gown. 

“Mac?” Jack’s voice was rough and slightly slurred, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine.” Mac shook his head, brushing away Jack’s concern. “Are you alright?” His worried gaze lifted to the bandage on Jack’s head. “Are you in pain, shall I call the nurse?” 

“No." Jack shifted in his bed. “No, don’t need ‘em.” 

“Are you sure?” Mac let his hand hover over the red Call button thinking maybe he should get the nurses to look at Jack now he was awake. They probably had checks they needed to do and vital signs to take. If something was wrong they needed to know. 

“I’m okay, buddy,” Jack said, a half smile gentle on his lips at Mac’s concern. “I wouldn’t try to be macho and tough an injury out if I knew there was a problem, trust me.” 

Mac did trust Jack, always. He lowered his hand. 

“Do you know what happened?” 

Jack squinted, thinking, “Hal?” 

“That’s right, you were working with Hal and you had an accident and fell.” 

“Right,” Jack blinked as though he was trying to clear the residual spark left by glancing at the sun from his vision. “Is he okay?” 

“Yeah, I called Diane, she’s arranged for some people to go over and take care of the horses.” 

“Okay, good. That’s good.” Jack sighed and rubbed his free hand across his forehead. The action seemed to centre him and his eyes looked clearer when he looked up into Mac’s face. 

“How are you feeling?” Mac asked. 

Jack blew out a breath in a drawn out, weary sigh. “Like I've been overdoing a bunch of things you’re too young for.” He narrowed his eyes as he studied Mac’s face. “Are you okay?” 

“You’ve just asked me that.” 

Jack reached up to cup Mac’s cheek in his palm. “I know but it’s important.” 

“I’m okay.” 

That was a lie. Mac wasn’t hurt but he wasn’t anywhere near okay. 

He still felt the way he had in the split second after he’d seen Jack start to fall, the instant just before the devastating reality of Jack’s helpless body hitting the ground had struck. That moment had been full of dawning horror like the inhale before a scream and Mac felt like he was still there. He felt numb and restless, lost and exposed, like he was on the edge of a disaster he knew was coming but couldn’t see or predict. 

“Come here, son” Jack shuffled over in his bed and patted the space he’d just created beside him. 

Mac looked at the empty patch of sheets that was probably too small for him to comfortably fit in but looked unbearably inviting nonetheless. “Oh, I’m probably not supposed to.” 

“Pfft!” Jack snorted, “I’ll just sweet talk anyone who protests, they’ll be helpless in the face of my Southern charm. C’mon, I need a hug. I think we both do.” 

Mac glanced quickly at the closed door of Jack’s hospital room and decided that since no one was about to come in and stop them, and since he wanted to feel Jack’s arms around him more than he needed his next breath, he climbed onto the bed beside Jack and leaned into his open arms. 

“See, I feel much better already.” 

Mac burrowed against Jack. “You-?” he started to say. 

“Shhhh.” Jack brushed his fingers through Mac’s hair. 

“But-”

“Shhhhh.” 

Mac felt a soft kiss against his forehead and Jack tightened his embrace. 

“We’re both okay, buddy. Everything’s okay. I’ve got you.” 

Mac let out a deep breath and relaxed under the arms holding him. He and closed his eyes and nestled closer to Jack’s chest, listening to the steady thump of his dad’s heart. 

  


Mac was cleaning out Hal’s stall. 

It was filthy, full of soiled hay and Mac knew that he needed to clean it before Hal came back to it or they wouldn’t let Jack out of the hospital. 

He was dreaming. Mac knew he was dreaming and he knew that what he was dreaming made no sense but that didn’t stop urgency clawing at him as he scooped up forkfuls of straw and dumped them into the wheelbarrow beside him. 

He filled the wheelbarrow but turned around to find that the area he’d just cleared was covered in dirty hay again. Mac drove his pitchfork back into the straw, lifting and moving it but every time he looked there was more on the floor than before, more rotten and dirt-covered than ever. He moved as fast as he could, each forkful feeling heavier than the last, until he was breathless and aching but his efforts made no difference. The stall was still wasn’t clean. His curse of frustration and fear was muffled in the filthy space around him. He wasn’t being fast enough, Jack wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital and it would be because of him. He pushed his pitchfork back in the rancid straw and heard the sound of Hal’s hooves approaching. 

If Hal was back it was too late, he hadn’t done enough. They wouldn’t let Jack come home and it was all his fault! A hand fell heavily onto his shoulder. The weight of it, cruel and relentless, threatened to drive him to his knees. James’ voice rumbled in his ear. 

“Angus, what have you done?” 

Mac’s eyes snapped open to the darkness of his bedroom. He grabbed JJ and pulled him close, laying the plush toy on his chest to feel the comforting pressure of it and buried his face in the dog’s soft fur. He lay still, one arm thrown over his face to cover his eyes, trying to convince himself that he would be fine in a minute. That he just needed to be still and wait until running his hand over JJ would be enough let him go back to sleep. 

Rhythmically stroking his fingers over and over the silky fuzz beneath them helped a little. Mac's breathing and heartbeat slowed, the panic in his limbs ebbed away, but he knew that he wasn’t going to settle. Not until he’d been to check. Not until he was sure. 

He pushed his covers back and stood, leaving JJ behind on the bed because _he did not need to carry his stuffed animal with him around like a small child,_ and padded out of his bedroom and across the hall to Jack’s. Mac pushed the door open as quietly as he could and leaned his head into the room, listening hard. Jack’s room was dark and hushed, the black shapes of the furniture stood silently against the looming walls and the only light was a sliver of moonlight falling through a gap in the drawn curtains. Mac always felt comfortable going into Jack room during the day; when Jack was in there he always knocked before going in out of politeness but he never felt like it was a space he wasn’t welcome in. Some days, the really bad days, spending time in there curled on Jack’s bed surrounded by the solid reality of his existence, the shirt hanging on the back of the wardrobe door, the dresser drawer left slightly open, the novel left on the bedside table - a bookmark between the pages - waiting to be picked up again were the only things that kept Mac from spiralling somewhere dark and frightening. Sneaking in there at night though, that was different. He felt ashamed, ridiculous. And while he was sure Jack wouldn’t be angry or disapprove Mac still didn’t want him waking and discovering what he was doing. 

Jack was a silent, still shape under the covers. Mac tiptoed forwards, avoiding the creaking floorboard and the spot where Jack usually kicked his discarded boots, until he was stood beside Jack’s bed. Jack was laid on his side, the duvet pulled up over his shoulders and one hand tucked underneath his pillow. He was deeply asleep and Mac couldn’t see the bruise darkening his temple in the shadowed gloom. Mac shuffled closer, leaning over and staring hard until he could make out the rise and fall of Jack’s chest. He stood watching Jack breathe for long minutes until the night air had chilled him through and his eyes were heavy and gritty with fatigue. Eventually, his anxiety eased somewhat by the knowledge that Jack was fine and breathing and alive, Mac quietly made his way back to his own bed. 

He slept fitfully, tossing and turning, drifting in and out of dreams that he couldn’t remember but that left him anxious and unsettled. He finally got up just after 6am and took himself to the lounge to curl up on the rocking chair and surf the internet on his tablet. He was scrolling through NASA’s Instagram page when Jack ambled into the room, rubbing his eyes and scratching at the stubble on his cheeks. His gait was still stiff with the bruises marking him from his fall and Mac watched him move carefully in case he stumbled or needed help. He dropped onto the couch opposite Mac with a sleepy groan. 

“Morning, sunshine. You’re up early.” 

Mac shrugged. “I didn’t feel like staying in bed anymore.” 

Jack, skeptical but keeping his thoughts to himself, raised one eyebrow, “Okay. Have you had breakfast?” 

“I’m not hungry yet.” 

“Me either,” Jack said, puffing air out of his cheeks, “but I could go for some coffee. Do you want some?” 

“Yes. Please. Thank you.” 

Jack heaved himself up and wandered off into the kitchen. 

Mac bit his lip as he watched him go. He’d been thinking. Somewhere between the dream, the burning, unshakeable need to be sure that Jack was okay and his night of restless sleep Mac had come to understand that he should talk to Jack. That he needed to talk to Jack. Dr Amanda had told him that it was good to discuss things that worried him with his dad - a problem shared could really be a problem halved – and the times they had talked about what he was scared of or concerned about really had helped. But what he wanted to say now was different. He heard Jack crashing around in the kitchen, gathering mugs and milk and singing to himself, and thought that maybe then wasn’t the best time to begin the conversation he felt he ought to have but didn’t want to start. On the other hand, Mac fretted, when would be? 

“One cup of Joe.” Jack placed a mug full of aromatically steaming liquid in front of Mac and sat down across from him tentatively sipping at his own hot drink. “Are you okay, kiddo?” he asked, studying Mac over the rim of his mug. He was drinking from the ‘World’s Best Dad’ cup that Mac had given him as a silly birthday present. Under the title was cartoon of a dog sitting in a boat beside the puppy it was teaching to fish. Mac and Jack had laughed together at how tacky the mug was, the picture was badly drawn and oversentimental to the point of cheesiness, but there had been sincerity behind the joke that Jack had seen. He’d looked at the present fondly when he had Mac had finished laughing and it was the mug he drank from the most. 

“Could we,” Mac cleared his throat. He ran a hand round and round the edge of his tablet, searching for comfort in the predictable slide of the symmetrical shape against his fingers. “Could we talk about something. Maybe later if you don’t want to now.” 

“We can talk about it now – whatever you’re thinking about is only going to eat at you until we do - am I right?” 

“Yeah, but, you’ve only just woken up.” 

“I’m drinking coffee, that’s almost the same as being fully awake.” Jack tipped his head to one side. “If you want to talk, of course.” 

“I…” Mac rubbed his hands up and down his arms. “It’s, well it’s...” He folded his hands neatly in his lap, knowing he must look silly adopting such a formal pose when he was still wearing his pyjamas and his hair was stood up in messy tufts of bedhead. He tried again. “You are okay, aren’t you? I mean, really? Like, _really_?”

“Of course,” Jack replied, his voice and expression soft. “It will take more than a grumpy horse and a bump on the noggin to throw me off my game. I promise you I’m alright.” 

Mac nodded, trying so very hard to believe him. 

“I’m sorry you saw what happened. I’m sorry you got scared like that. But I suppose,” Jack smiled ruefully, “I can’t be completely sorry you were there. You took care of me when I needed it. I’m so proud of you, and grateful.” 

“But I didn’t know what to do!” Mac shook his head sharply, rejecting Jack’s praise. “I couldn’t remember anything I knew about first aid, I panicked!” 

“Anyone would get flustered in a situation like that. Maybe you were scared at first but you made sure I was okay, you called for help and you arranged for someone to take care of the horses. You didn’t do anything wrong, son.” 

Stinging tears forced Mac to turn from Jack, he sniffled and brushed at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, not when he still had things to say. 

“If it hadn’t been okay,” Mac started tentatively, hating the nagging thought that had unwanted words gathering in his throat, “if something had happened to you, if something does happen to you, what…what will happen to me?” 

A shadow of emotion crept across Jack’s face. He sat very still, focused on Mac. 

“What would happen to you?” he asked. 

“It’s just that, if you hadn’t been okay after the accident with Hal…” Mac faltered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “When the doctors said that you had to stay in the hospital overnight for observation, before Bozer’s mom said I could stay with them, I heard the nurses talking and they said that if they couldn’t find anywhere for me to stay I would have to go into emergency foster care. I don’t have any family here and neither do you so if something ever did happen to you…” Mac’s eyes burned again. He felt as though all of him was burning, fevered with heartbreak and fear. He drew in a ragged breath and forced out the words that were haunting him, “…they’d send me away.” 

Jack opened his mouth and drew breath to make an automatic denial but closed it again. “Son,” he said after a moment, his voice rough. He took a sip of his coffee and put it back on the table with a clumsy shake in his hand that sloshed brown liquid over the mug’s side. 

“I know I should be worrying about you - and I am!” Mac quickly added, his gaze flicking to the graze on Jack’s temple, “all the time. But one of the things I keep thinking about is that this is my home, all my friends are here, and if something happened to you and they sent me away…” Mac’s words faded. He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. If he was sent away he didn’t know what he would do, the prospect was too awful to consider or name. 

Silence grew between father and son, thick and burdened with everything that Mac had said. He felt nauseous and weak with guilt and distress. 

“I promised you once that you wouldn’t be sent away and I’m going to keep that promise.” Jack spoke slowly, serious in a way he rarely was and as earnest as Mac had seen him. “The truth is that right now I don’t know what would happen to you if I,” his rough voice wavered, “if I couldn’t take care of you anymore. So I’m going to call my lawyer later to find out what we should arrange for if that ever happens and we’ll discussed what option is best for us. Maybe you could become independent somehow, or maybe my mom could become involved, I don’t know how it’ll work yet but I will make sure that no one will ever send you away from your home. No matter what, even if I’m not here, you will always be my son and I’ll always make sure that you are okay.” 

“I know it’s selfish to think about myself when you’ve been hurt,” Mac stumbled over the rush of words, desperate to have his apology heard, “but I can’t stop worrying about what might have happened.” 

“No, buddy,” Jack closed his eyes as he shook his head, saddened by compassion, “you’re not being selfish. When you were hurt after the break in and I saw you unconscious on the floor I was worried about you but I was scared for myself too, scared of what it would be like for me if I lost you. When you love someone you need them to be okay because you _need_ them. That’s not selfish – that’s human. Besides,” Jack brightened with a visible effort, trying to lighten the mood, “you’ll be eighteen soon and I’m still fit and young – youngish – so there’s no reason to think anything bad will happen.” 

An old pain, one he hadn’t considered but that seemed like an obvious source of his current hurt now he thought to look at it echoed inside Mac. “My mom was young and fit.” 

“Ah, kiddo.” Jack moved to sit next to Mac on the rocking chair, his weight dropping suddenly onto the seat made it lurch backwards and forwards and he waited for it to settle before he spoke again. “I’ll be careful, okay?” He rested a hand on Mac’s shoulder. 

“Even with Hal?” 

“Absolutely with Hal.” Jack studied Mac, an insightful flicker in his eyes. “You know, when I first met Hal he reminded me of you. I looked at him and I saw a bright spark who just needed to feel safe and loved to shine. ” Jack flopped back into the soft cushions behind him and sighed. The glimmer in his gaze turned sombre. “But it’s not like that for you is it? You see a creature who is angry, unpredictable and unsafe. When I look at Hal I see you, but when you look at him you see James.” 

It was true. Neither of them were wrong, but neither of them were right either, they were just looking from very different perspectives. Mac was silent, not knowing how to answer. 

“If you want,” Jack offered carefully, “if Hal keeps makes you uncomfortable, I could find a new home for him. I know some people who will be able to take him in.” 

Something breathless and hopeful rushed upwards in Mac at Jack’s words, tempered almost immediately by empathy. He shook his head. 

“Hal feels safe with you, you’re helping him. If he gets moved again he might not be able to trust the next person he lives with and that wouldn’t be fair.” 

“You don’t have to say that because you think I want to hear it. Nothing is more important to me that you feeling safe. Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” Mac nodded, while his stomach churned with nerves he knew he was making the right decision. “He’s suffered enough, I can’t be the reason he suffers more.” 

Jack beamed, “You’re a good man, son. We’ll keep him, if you’re sure.” 

Mac wasn’t sure about Hal, not yet. He knew it was going to be a long time before he was comfortable around him, but he was sure about Jack and Jack’s ability to make things better. He moved in to hug Jack and was folded into a firm embrace. 

“You should think about spending more time with Hal. It could be good for both of you, if you’re comfortable, Jack said. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s good enough for me, whatever you decide is fine.” 

Mac shifted in his seat to snuggle closer and lay his head on Jack’s chest so he could hear his dad's strong, steady heart beat. 

  


And that’s how later that day Mac found himself standing in front of the door to Hal’s stall. His shoes were as close to four feet away as he could approximate with the intention that he would inch closer each subsequent time he stood there. 

“Jack says we could be friends,” Mac said to the horse watching him from the sweet straw scented comfort of his stable. 

Hal’s ears flickered with interest and his large, clever eyes watched Mac curiously. 

“I’m not angry about what happened to Jack - I forgive you - mostly. I understand what it’s like when you’re scared and how fear can make you lash out at people.” 

Hal whinnied and swished his tail. 

“You can trust Jack you know, he’ll take good care of you. ” Mac smiled to himself, thinking of him and Jack walking into Sara’s diner for breakfast after Jack declared that it felt like a day for pancakes and bacon but he didn’t feel like making them himself. Jack’s shoulder had been tucked behind his and a smile had been clear in his voice as he told a funny story about the day Pepper realised she could open her stable door, “That’s what he does, you’ll be safe with him. I am.” 

“Are you two becoming pals?” Jack said as he approached Hal’s stall, an excited smile on his face and something small tucked in his arms. 

“Yeah I think so. This could be the start of a beautiful friendship.” 

“I’m pleased to hear it. I, umm, well I have someone else here you might want to get to know.” Jack opened his arms to reveal a young cat sitting there. The tabby was grey with black stripes, a white chin and long, gangly legs. 

“Sara said he’s a stray that’s been hanging around near the diner looking for scraps. I was thinking about what you said and I know he isn’t a crazy old tiger for me to add to our little family but he’s the closest thing I could find. I thought he could help keep mice away from the bags of feed.” 

Mac grinned and scratched the kitten’s head, it’s fur was soft and warm against his fingers and it butted against his fingers with it’s nose. 

“Can you think of a name for him?” Jack asked. “I thought you could name him since getting him was kind of your idea.” 

“Herschel, ” Mac said after a moment of thought. “After William Herschel, the astronomer who discovered infrared radiation and the planet Uranus. He searched for things in the sky and since the kitty here is going to be looking for rodents it fits.” 

“Herschel,” Jack repeated, testing the name out. “That’s okay with me as long as you don’t mind me making jokes about Uranus like sixty times a day.” 

“Do you think we could negotiate that down to twice a day?” Mac asked, imaging just how bad some of Jack’s puns were going to get. 

“I’ll try but I’m not going to promise anything.” Jack put the cat down on the floor where he looked around him then walked away, sniffing the air curiously as he went. “That’s right, Herschel” Jack called to the retreating animal, “get your fuzzy tuchus out there and find some of those squeakers who keep trying to eat my oats.” He turned to Mac grinning, “Did you see what I did there?” 

“I saw Jack.” 

“I’m glad you liked it,” Jack threw an arm around Mac’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I thought that as puns go that one was particularly _booty-full._”

“It was,” Mac nudged Jack with an elbow. “The way you can think up puns is one of my favourite _ass-pects_ of your personality.” 

Jack hooted with glee. “You’re learning, kid, you’re learning. Come on, we should go and do something useful, these horses aren’t going to take care of themselves.” 

“So you’re saying it’s time for us to get our butts in gear?” 

Jack turned to Mac wearing the expression Mac had only ever seen directed at him, the one full of the kind of delight found in a new discovery, the joy felt when reconnecting with a loved one and a gleam of something that was undeniably _Jack_, something silly and kind and uncompromisingly decent. He barked out a laugh. “I guess I am kid. Let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My knowledge of horses mostly comes from the pony books I used to read when I was little, I liked the Jackie Won a Pony and Jill’s Gymkhana series. (Jackie used to solve mysteries and Jill tended to be enthusiastic and had a wizard time with all her jolly pony owning pals. Jill is an icon and I won’t hear differently) I also once watched a documentary about a lady who as a horse whisperer. My point is that I know nothing about horses, not really. I’ve Googled horse related things to try and write Hal authentically but if you are a horsie kind of person and you’ve read this story shaking your head at the inaccuracies then I can only apologise.  
I went to Bath over the summer and visited the house that William Hershel was living in when his discovered Uranus and for some reason left thinking, “I’m going to give Stable AU Mac and Jack a kitten called Hershel, Jack will love making puns about that.”
> 
> William’s sister Caroline lived in the house with him and she was also a noted astronomer. There’s a plaque on the wall of the house dedicated to both of them, saying that it’s where William lived when he discovered Uranus and that Caroline lived there too, describing her as a ‘Hunter of comets’. As epitaphs go I think that one is pretty cool.


End file.
